


Getting Somewhere

by Drunkonturpentine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Quidditch, background wolfstar if you squint, jily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 04:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drunkonturpentine/pseuds/Drunkonturpentine
Summary: The 1977 Gryffindor quidditch team's semifinal loss to Ravenclaw deals a crushing blow to the ego of its captain, James Potter. Luckily, Lily Evans always knows what to say to cheer him up.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Getting Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2019 Whumptober challenge and originally posted on Tumblr. The daily prompt was "explosion."
> 
> This is really more hurt/comfort (of the very mild, emotional sort) than anywhere close to actual whump, but...hey, the kids wanted to be happy this time! Who am I to deny them that?
> 
> Hope you enjoy. :)

“Has he—? Yes! Abbott’s caught the snitch, clinching the semifinal for Ravenclaw! They’ve beaten Gryffindor 240-70, advancing them to the final match against Slytherin.”

The Ravenclaw section of the crowd erupted in cheers, the sound reverberating around the pitch like an explosion. Their smiles were a stark contrast to the miserable faces of the Gryffindor students filing out of the stands, their shoulders slumped in defeat. None looked more miserable than the team’s captain.

“Come on, mate,” Sirius murmured, shoulder to shoulder with James as they marched toward the showers with the rest of their team. “We’re still the best. Fuck ‘em.”

James, who knew Sirius didn’t give a toss about winning the cup and only played for the joy of hurling bludgers at Slytherins, glared at him. “This was our year, Pads! We were meant to go all the way! We were so fucking close, down by _two_, until Abbott and his stupid, perfect vision…”

Sirius nudged him. “Buck up, Prongsie. You can still go all the way with Evans later.”

“Shut up.” James paused. “D’you reckon?”

Sirius laughed as they stored their brooms and started stripping off their gear, the whole team vying for one of the few shower stalls. “I’m thinking she’ll take pity on her house’s dear, dear captain, who’s in need of some comfort after his crushing defeat.” He winked. “Play it up.”

“I don’t want a pity shag from Lily,” James insisted as he stepped under the spray. “I want the real thing.”

Sirius chucked a soapy flannel at his head from the next stall over. “A shag’s a shag, James. Doesn’t matter the reason for it.”

“I’m telling Moony you said that.”

“Don’t!”

James was still feeling low during that night’s Gryffindor house party, which went on despite the team’s loss. He slumped onto one of the overstuffed sofas, a mostly empty cup of firewhisky in hand. His first year as captain, and he’d blown it in the semifinals. He’d never get McGonagall to wear his jersey to class now.

The cushion shifted as someone sat down beside him. “Alright, Potter?” Lily asked. James turned to look at her, his stomach flipping at the flush on her cheeks and the floral scent of her hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you brood before.”

“Alright, Evans,” James said, starting to grin despite himself. “I’m not _brooding_, I’m…strategizing for next season. I’m not losing to bloody Ravenclaw again.”

Lily nodded. “It was a close match. You would’ve pulled through on goals if the snitch hadn’t caught the light like that right in front of Abbott.”

James was about to mutter something sullen about Abbott and his stupid, perfect vision again when Lily passed him a full glass of firewhisky and added, “You played well. It was just bad luck.”

“You think so?” James turned to face her more fully. She was still smiling at him, her fringe falling in her eyes a bit as she sipped her own drink. He brushed it back on her forehead gently, the strands slipping through his fingers like silk. She was always so soft. “Because I’m not above fishing for compliments right now.”

He kept his hand where it was, and she leaned her face into it, her skin warm from the drinks and the roaring fireplace. He still couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to do this; he could brush back Lily Evans’s hair—kiss her, even—without getting his balls hexed off after. Her green eyes met his and she started laughing softly. “What?” James asked, feeling his own smile getting stupidly wide.

She leaned in closer and he moved his hand to rub small circles against the nape of her neck, not ready to stop touching her. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked fondly.

James leaned in, too, his knee nudging hers. “Like what?”

“Like I’m…” Lily shook her head, her eyes searching his face. He wasn’t sure what she saw there until she set her drink down and smoothed a hand down his chest, his heart beating hard under her palm.

“Like you’re…the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen?” James murmured. “Because you are, Lils. You’re—oh, shit!”

James’s drink, which had been dangling in his free hand while they talked, slipped from his grasp, an entire glass of firewhisky soaking straight through his trousers. They both looked down, shocked, before Lily burst out laughing.

“No, _no_, there was a mood!” James protested even as he started to laugh, too. “We were getting somewhere, Evans!”

Lily covered her face with her hands as she got her last laughs out, then stood up and held a hand out to James. “We still are, Potter,” she said with a sly grin, nodding toward the boys’ dormitory. “Or would you rather sit down here with wet trousers for the rest of the night?”

James gaped up at her like a fish before his body sprung into action. He jumped to his feet, taking her hand solidly in his own. “I definitely don’t want to do that,” he said with a shaky laugh. When he looked in her eyes, he saw fondness, warmth, and not an ounce of pity. He let Lily lead him across the room, the sound of Sirius’s wolf whistles following them like a song up the staircase.


End file.
